


Four Time Dean and Faith Fucked in Metallicar (and one time they didn't)

by astrothsknot



Series: Imitating Angels [10]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Supernatural
Genre: AU, Dean and Faith with kids, F/M, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, awwwww
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-21
Updated: 2014-09-21
Packaged: 2018-02-18 07:56:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2340905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrothsknot/pseuds/astrothsknot





	Four Time Dean and Faith Fucked in Metallicar (and one time they didn't)

Title: Four Times They Fucked In Metallicar (And One Time They Didn’t)  
Author: Astrothsknot  
Fandom: Supernatural/Buffy  
Series: Imitating Angels AU  
Rating: NC17 het  
Pairing: Dean/Faith, brief mention of Sam/OFC  
Disclaimer: Not mine. Kripke and Joss’s  
Written for Andie, my exercise buddy. Set in my AU, but it works on its own. It turned out differently than I expected. Beta by Pheebs1

One

They always fuck after hunts. Faith gets so damn high on the adrenaline; needs to let it out. She just can’t come down quietly. Not that Dean’s complaining.

This time should be different. If friends are the family you chose for yourself, then a member of their family is dying in hospital. Hell, she could be dead already for all they know.

Maybe it’s the dying that has something to do with why Dean peels off the road at a fair lick. He doesn’t even bother to hide the Impala, just parks on the grass at the side of the road. 

He reaches for Faith, pulls her close, twisting in the seat to face her, tangling his hands in her hair. Christ, her head is so small. She feels too damn delicate, but that doesn’t make him any less rough as he crushes his mouth against hers, clacking their teeth together. His tongue drives into her mouth, pushing against hers.

She pushes back and it’s so alive. She’s so alive.

She’s still covered in the blood of her best friend. He can taste the copper where there’s blood on her face, as he kisses quickly along her jaw line, torn between wanting in her now and trying to tease it out, show that he’s grateful for still breathing.

It’s not the first time he’s fucked her dressed in the blood of their enemy, but it’s the first time he’s fucked her dressed in the blood of her friend.

Faith pulls at his belt, his snap, his zipper, hands fumbling for his dick, dragging it out from his boxers. She’s coarse and she hurts him. He hisses, tightens his hands in her hair till she winces.

Faith bites his lip, draws blood, squeezes his cock so hard that he nearly blanks for a moment. Her other hand is trying to undo her zipper, just as Dean has that idea too and it’s too many fingers scrabbling in the dark, but neither one wants to break their biting, desperate kisses.

But they work together, despite it all and soon Dean’s got two fingers right inside Faith’s cunt and he’s pumping them in a hard, frantic rhythm, working his thumb against her clit, as Faith drags her hand tight around his dick, twisting at the end the way he likes. 

She’s the only girl who’s ever got just how to fuck him with her hand.

They work each other for a few minutes, the liquid sounds harsh in the small space, Faith’s cries sharp as she gets closer to the edge. Dean doesn’t cry out, just breathes hard, like he’s fighting a demon all over again. 

He takes his hand out from inside her, starts tugging at her jeans, pulling them past her ass as she wriggles. Then, hands on her hips, Dean flips Faith over, pulls her flush against him, fits his dick up to her pussy. Faith’s got one hand gripping the back of the seat, the other reaches behind her to grasp the steering wheel. He’s got one arm around her waist, the other’s across her chest.

He pushes into her hard and smooth, then fucks into her, tense, jerky. 

At some point, the light gets turned on inside the Impala and they can see their reflections in the dark window, Faith’s hair swinging as he makes her take the fuck. Dean’s reflection is biting his lip.

Their eyes are black in the window, like they’re possessed.

Faith comes and the feel of it sets Dean off. He pulls out right after, starts putting his still hard dick back in his pants, Faith contorting as she pull her jeans up. 

“We need to find a bathroom,” he says, shocked that his voice is still normal.

“Yeah,” she agrees. “It’s the blood.”

Two

It’s freezing so Dean and Faith are waiting in the car for the rest of the ghouls to show. They’ve been picking off the odd homeless drunk. The bait is currently lying in amongst the shit in the street. A bottle of whiskey and he’s happy.

“Kinda unusual for ghouls to come this far away from a bone yard,” Faith says. She helps herself to the giant packet of M&Ms on the seat between them.

“Well, plenty animals are coming into the cities,” says Dean. “You got falcons, foxes and raccoons coming in for the trash, the rats and small birds.”

“You been watching Discovery?” She asks, shooting him a WTF look.

“It’s easy on the brain when I’m hungover.” Dean shrugs. “Ghouls have got the homeless and the junkies just lying around. Less people getting buried now. Getting cremated instead. I ain’t coming back to haunt anyone, so I’m getting cremated.”

“How you gonna know? You’ll be dead.” She looks back to the drunk, senses leaping into overdrive as she sees the ugly creature cautiously sniff its way closer to the prone alkie. Her hand closes on the door handle. She doesn’t need to look to know that Dean’s doing the same. He’s reaching for his sword as Faith does. 

“I’d rather have a fucking flamethrower,” she mutters.

“Yeah, let’s torch the whole damn alley, get all the cops down here,” snorts Dean. 

The ghoul’s teeth close on the bum’s leg and he screams despite the booze in his system. It ignores him as he’s not fighting. But it allows Dean and Faith to get close enough to the monster for them to attack it.

Faith’s sword swings through the air, going for the shoulder, slicing deep into the meat. Dean aims for the legs, cutting the muscles at the back. The ghoul screams and slashes out at Dean, dragging claws across the leather jacket. 

“Motherfucker! That‘s my favourite jacket!” Dean yells, zigzagging the sword to get it out.

Faith’s already torn her sword out, swinging it hard into the ghoul’s face and that’s what brings it down. Between them they hack and slash it into it, blood and meat coating them and the walls.

They leave the body where it is. Fire’s not an option here, and no one will notice more weird shit rotting amongst all the other rotting shit.

Dean looks at Faith in the streetlight, covered in blood and sweat, stinking of gore, face flushed and eyes shining. It’s the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen. He wants to fuck her so badly, but it’s her who reaches up, grabbing the collar of his jacket and hauling him into her for a hard kiss. Their mouths and tongues work against each other like they’re drowning. 

Faith breaks off, drags Dean to the car, hauling open the door as he stumbles behind her. 

They clamber onto the backseat, slightly more spacious than the front, dumping the swords on the floor, scrambling out of their clothes, writhing against each other in the small space. Faith wants to fuck him as he is, but Dean whispers “No, off, everything off.”

And then there’s no breath to say anything as she pushes him down and straddles him, rooting in her jeans for her wallet, pulling out a condom, smoothing it over his dick. She grins as he bucks his hips up into her touch, groans as she sinks onto him, tight heat gripping his cock as she moves.

Dean runs his hands lightly over her thighs, her ass, and her stomach, feeling the muscles ripple and flex under her skin as she makes him take her fuck. Dean tries to sit up, pull her against him, touch more of her, but Faith pushes him down with two hands on the centre of his chest. She bucks her hips harder against him, grinding down so hard that she’s taking him deep and it must be hurting. Dean can reach more of her now she’s leaning over him, so he brushes his hands over arms, her tits. He rolls her nipples between his fingers as Faith begins to give the breathy, ragged sighs that Dean guesses is the sign she’s on track for the top of the rollercoaster but not yet ready for the drop.

One of his hands finds its way to her clit, rolling that little organ between his fingers. Twist. Twist. Twist. She gasps and places her hand over his. For a moment she watches the junction of their bodies, before Dean breathes her name, Faith, and she looks at him, neither able to break their gaze as she comes. 

The expression that suffuses her features takes Dean’s breath away. It’s a look of such vulnerability and even …innocence, that he never thought he’d see on Faith. It’s a look that reminds him why he loves sex, to be able to give a woman such pure joy.

She blesses him with his name, sighing it forth across her tongue before she leans down to lick his lips. That sets him off, and he comes like a goddamn freight train, because there’s something about her that just gets him deep down in a place that has nothing to do with fucking.

Afterwards they dress and he drives her back to the motel. They fuck some more in the shower and on the bed.

She’s gone when he wakes up, but she’s left a box number for an address in Sunnydale.

Three

Richard doesn’t sleep very well. He keeps having nightmares that a dark man with yellow eyes is going to come and kill Momma on the ceiling, then burn down the house. Or steal the baby.

It’s stopping Dean from sleeping, so he tends to hear when Richard begins to cry in his sleep, before he starts to scream and wake up the rest of the household. He swings his legs out of the bed, careful not to wake Faith. She needs her sleep and for all that’s she’s superhuman, pregnancy is hard on her.

Pulling on a t-shirt as he goes, he pads down the hallway to his son’s room. A quick glance shows an intact salt line. The bed’s empty and he fights panic as he checks the place where Richard has started to hide. Sure enough, he’s wedged between the wall and the chest of drawers.

“Hey Ricky,” is all Dean says as he crouches down in front of him, holding his arms out. 

“Daddy?” Richard sniffles, wriggling out into his father’s arms

“It’s Daddy, Champ. Not sleeping?” Dean closes his arms tight around the small body. “Wanna go for a drive?”

“Uh-huh,” Richard sobs more than says. “I want Momma to come.”

Dean wraps him in his Thomas The Tank Engine quilt, carries him through to his room. Faith’s already awake as Dean pulls on his jeans and boots. “Again?” 

“Yeah, again.”

Faith leans over to regard her son and strokes his face. The dark eyes are puffy with tears and Faith kisses his forehead.

Dean drives about ten miles to the lake where he’s teaching Richard how to swim. They’ve built sandcastles on the shore here. Happy, laughing days the like of which he never thought he’d see and expects every day to lose. Richard is snuggled between his parents and Dean’s heart clenches in his chest as he looks at his son, sleeping peacefully now.

“You had the same nightmares, when I was carrying Richard,” says Faith, quietly. “And we’re both still here.”

“This isn’t supposed to be me,” says Dean. “I’m not supposed to have this, him, her. Us.” He waves his hand in the direction of Faith’s swollen belly. “It’s going to go to shit.”

“Bullshit,” replies Faith. “If anyone is geared to fuck up the demons, it’s us. Not the first apocalypse I‘ve been through. I‘m still here.”

Not like these demons, he wants to tell her, but she wouldn’t listen, because she’s right. He just wraps his family in his arms, gazes out at the lake, listening to them breathing softly as the cries of animals in the night soundtrack a thousand little murders.

Four

Dean comes out of the diner and she’s sitting on the hood of the Impala, large as life and twice as sexy. “Hey, Sweet Lips! Ya miss me?”

“Faith?” Dean drops his coffee, he’s so surprised. His grin is more happy than it should be, but he doesn’t care. “You owe me a coffee.”

“I think I owe you more than a coffee.”

“I thought you’d died in Sunnydale.” He comes to stand beside her, shoulder to shoulder. He breaks the donut he’s holding in half, offers it to her. He’s got his face tilted towards her, eyes clear, open.

“Aw, did you miss me?” She teases, voice more gentle than it should be, as she takes the proffered half. Both are enjoying the closeness, the nearness to each other. Faith leans towards him, licks the sugar from his lips.

Dean closes his eyes, relishing what he never thought he’d feel again. 

Faith breaks away, whispers in his ear, “I want to go for a drive.”

Dean nods, reaches across and opens the door for her.

He drives to the top of a hill, then turns to Faith. She says in that gentle voice, “Let me pay back that coffee,” as she pulls him along the front seat, manoeuvring herself between Dean’s legs. She looks up at him, grins that wolfish grin she’s never lost, though this time it’s underlaced with tenderness. 

Dean gently traces the line of her jaw with a finger, which she turns and kisses as she slowly undoes his belt, making sure she catches the bulge of his dick. She presses lightly on it as she unzips his jeans.

He buries his hands in her hair, eyes locked. They never look away as purely by touch Faith pulls his cock free from his boxers, running her fingers over him, so lightly, circling the head with her nail. It twitches and Dean gasps, pushing his hips against her. She takes her hair and twists it around the shaft, rubbing the strand up and around, enjoying the stutter of his breath.

Faith keeps working hands and hair over his dick as she starts to lick the pre-come, swirling her tongue like she’s licking an ice cream. She does this for a few minutes, varying the speed of her tongue and the pressure of her hands. Dean pumps his hips just the way he knows she likes it, craving more of her. 

“Faith, please,” he pleads, though for what, he’s not sure.

And it doesn’t matter as she puts her lips over the top of his dick, starts to play her tongue along it as she sucks her way further and further down. She’s still pulsing her fingers around the base, his balls, cheeks hollowing with the vacuum she’s creating. Dean’s saying her name like it’s a litany to ward away the shit in their lives and just for now, it’s working.

Oh, Dear God, she’s biting him now, gently, but it’s one more level of pleasure melting through his body, driving everything away, but Faith and her sweet body between his sprawled legs, mouth hot and beautiful on his dick.

Dean can feel the pulse in his balls building, pressure tightening up in his lower back. It coils sharper and sharper with each suck, each second their eyes seek the infinite in each other, until Dean hits the top of the rollercoaster and just fucking drops.

And now he does cry out, a wordless sound that says everything as he pulses down her throat. Faith swallows and for that alone, he loves her.

He wants to make a cocky comment, cheapen the moment, but he can’t. Instead, he puts away his dick and pulls Faith up and close. She lies along the seat, body propped up against his chest and they drink flat Coke that’s been lying around the car, eating the packet of Doritos that Dean keeps for emergencies.

They listen to the radio and enjoy the sunset. He never tells her he lit a candle for her when he heard about Sunnydale caving in. 

Five

Faith’s overdue with the baby and it’s getting close to November 2. Neither of them want to give birth on that date, not with Sam’s daughter being exactly six months old then. 

“I’ll salt and burn all my white pyjamas,” jokes Lily. Faith laughs, but stops as Sam gets up abruptly, a determined look on his face and a muttered “Works for me.”

He strides off in the direction of his bedroom, as Dean goes to get salt and lighter fuel. The taller man comes out of the room with a bundle of white clothes, dumps them on the bonfire Dean has made. Sam lights the fire over Lily’s protests. “I’ll take you shopping. We’ll have lunch, make a day of it,” he says. “Hey Dean, think red, green or lavender would keep the demons away?”

“I prefer black myself, but hot pink might work,” replies Dean.

“I hate shopping and I hate fucking green!” Snaps Lily. “Faith, let me go! I’d kick your ass into next week if you weren’t up the stick!”

“If I thought it would get this bastard out, I’d tell you to do it,” Faith replies. “Dean, where’re you -” as Dean goes back into the cabin, emerging a few minutes later with a load of Faith’s white clothing for the bonfire.

Even Lily laughs as Faith lets go with every obscenity she knows at Dean. Dean just pokes the fire and tells her he loves her. They watch the flames for a little while before the conversation turns from shopping and nightwear to what’s going to shift the baby.

“My mum always swore on camels. Or castor oil,” said Lily.

“Yeah, because camels are so indigenous to the Northwest,” snorts Dean. “Castor oil?”

“Yeah, you dilute it with orange juice,” says Lily.

“Fuck off,” Faith retorts. “I held you back while Sam burned your clothes, so I deserve to be punished?”

“I thought you wanted it out? I wouldn’t worry about being punished,” grinned Sam. “She’ll get me. What about driving the Impala really fast over bumps in the road? Plenty of those around here. And it‘s nothing new for you anyway.”

Dean’s look of horror sets them all off laughing. “Yeah Sam, why don’t we just add you to that bonfire? Bumps in the road? That‘s the best you can do, College Boy?”

“Well…” Sam tails off, looks at Lily with a wicked glint in his eye. “You could always try humps in the road.”

Lily chuckles. “Worked for us. Richard‘s asleep, he‘ll be fine.”

Dean cocks an eyebrow at that Faith, who gives a slight nod. Dean goes and gets his keys for the Impala. Sam and Lily whoop and applaud. Faith gives them the finger.

Dean drives and finds himself at the lake, before stripping his clothes off, helping Faith do the same. It’s awkward, there’s not much space, but somehow Faith manages to wriggle underneath Dean, turn her huge, beautiful stomach to the side, while Dean slides into her with long, sure strokes, sometimes kissing her, sometimes just drinking her in.

When he’s finished, he stays inside her for a minute. “If it’s a girl, I want to call her Joanna. Joanna Mary,” Dean says quietly, the way he does when things are important to him. “Peter Sam, if it’s a boy.”

“Peter Sam? Dude, that’s a character from Richard’s Thomas The Tank Engine Books!” Faith laughs. Lily had got him the UK originals and some tapes. He’s driving his parents up the wall with his obsession with them.

“So?” Grins Dean. “He’s a Really Useful Engine.”


End file.
